


Imagination, Plans, and Dreams

by badboy_fangirl



Series: Michael & Sara's First Time [1]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7175603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Sara's first time, set mid-season two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What She Didn't Imagine

She’d imagined it many times. In the Infirmary, her thoughts had wandered, several times, drawn away from her tasks by his fingers or the length of demons and angels across his skin, or, she would blush to admit, by the drag of his zipper over his crotch. She wondered about him, in every way. Would he be fast, or slow? Hard or soft? Would he fill her up, stretch her wider than she ever had been? She thought with his height and the length of his arms and legs, she knew the answer to that without seeing him naked.

When he’d kissed her, she’d had a glimpse. The heat in his mouth electrified her, sweeping down her thighs and exploding in her chest, and she remembers thinking, _if he kisses this well, he must make love like a master_. And she even had that dream, several times.

So, now, with their combined injuries—missing toes, a somewhat healed burn, a laceration on his forearm that looked like a cat scratch next to the thread-and-needle wound that stretched from her elbow almost to her wrist, not to mention all the cuts along her back and the one under her hair on the back of her neck that she’d given herself in her first attempt at hair cutting—they had cautiously fallen to the bed in the hotel room next door to where Lincoln slept. 

Sara thought that perhaps the shiver of anticipation that ran through her at his touch was tinged slightly with aftershocks of being electrocuted, but she just smiled, ignored her misfiring synapses, and tugged him closer.

She had imagined it many times. But when their kissing grew so ravenous so quickly, she knew he wouldn’t be able to wait long to be inside her, and his jerky, feverish movements showed her the sooner the better. And when her legs parted for him and he barely held back long enough to get the condom on, she knew he wouldn’t last long enough to take her with him.

Then it shifted into what she hadn’t imagined: that answering his need would be better than achieving her own satisfaction, and that by placing her hand against the back of his neck, she could drive him over the edge and he would cry out with a sound that was new to her ears. She hadn’t known that when his whispered, “I’m sorry,” touched her skin, it would be the first time those words had passed between them that she didn’t think she deserved them.

As he drew her into the curve of his body he softly intoned that if she could give him a little time, he would make it up to her.

Sara knew that he already had, and maybe she could find a way to tell him later.

She fell to sleep in his arms, her body a bit achy with wanting what she had imagined, but unimaginably gratified for what she hadn't.


	2. What He Hadn't Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's POV

When he planned to break Linc out of jail, he never could have planned on her. On how she would make him feel, and how different it would be than every other experience he’d ever had. He couldn’t plan that kissing her to steal her keys would drag him into the territory of falling in love with her. He couldn’t plan that he would end up dragging her along with him in a race to save his life, his brother’s life, and bring down a corrupt government head.

And when he attempted to drop her off in her own hotel room, and shuffle back to the room next door where his brother’s exhausted snores were already echoing off the walls, he could have never planned for her to look at him just so, and with no words softly invite him inside.

She didn’t have to say anything because she’d held up a condom she’d fished out of her purse and he could suddenly hear her words dusting along his nerve endings like it was just yesterday, _Oh, Michael. We all know nice girls finish last_.

That was all it had taken for him to be urgently aroused, as if the adrenaline rush of the last several days and the seeing Sara to the finding Sara gone to the knowing he had to find her immediately hadn’t already made him antsy enough to begin with. Her soft smile when his trembling hands touched her face and then slid over her shoulders and down her arms changed to a wince when his fingers touched her injured elbow.

“We’re going to have to be very careful,” he said softly, and outwardly he meant because of their injuries. Inwardly, he could have been referencing a dozen different things. She nodded, understanding his first meaning perfectly, and quickly pulled her own clothes off before lying down on the bed.

His clothes were flung off, landing gracelessly next to or on top of hers and when he climbed on the bed, he wondered if he ought to be a little embarrassed at how obvious his excitement was. Her arms surrounded his shoulders though, and her lips reached for his. Her tongue grazed his bottom lip, seeking intimacy before he did, and that made him hotter, made him think he might not even get inside her and he couldn’t imagine ruining this moment by doing that. Gasping, “Condom?” against her lips, he nearly shouted hallelujah when her much more steady hands ripped open the foil packet, but he insisted on rolling it on himself because he knew if she touched him it would be all over.

The tightness that met his aching flesh, only tempered by the fact that sensation was slightly dulled by the latex, caused him to groan her name. She breathed, “Shhh,” against his ear as her hand slid up from his shoulder over the back of his neck and he came without ceremony but with some degree of violence that left him panting; his heart pounded through him, as if trying to get out of his body and inside her chest, the way he was deeply embedded in the slick heat between her legs.

She was soft and tender beneath him, but he knew she hadn’t felt what he felt, at least not as intensely as he felt it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her cheekbone. The eyelashes of her right eye fluttered against his mouth and she shook her head, the hand lingering at the back of his neck still caressing him with a fervent eroticism that would inspire him again very shortly, he was certain. “If you give me a little time, I’ll make this up to you,” he said gently, easing off of her, but tugging her to his chest at the same time. He meant the words in two senses: that of the immediate future (say 15-20 minutes) and that of the long-term, after they had found Terrence Steadman, and cleared Linc, and found the evidence her father had left behind.

She closed her eyes and allowed him to curve his body around hers, evidently content. He prayed she would always be so easily consoled, especially because he feared this would get much worse before it got better.

He hadn’t planned on her, but now the only plan that mattered was the one that would insure her safety and their future.


	3. What She Hadn't Dreamed

Sara drifted in the nether world between light sleep and wakefulness, unable to totally relinquish the knowledge that Michael rested beside her, utterly sated and totally naked. She lay motionless in his arms for a while, losing track of time, with her bottom seated in the curve of his lap. She knew he hadn’t gone to completely to sleep either, because something was stirring against her and beginning to poke at her.

“Michael,” she murmured, opening her eyes slowly.

His response was his hand sliding over the curve of her waist, his long fingers dousing her stomach with heat before traveling upward to cup her breast. She arched automatically, seeking the contact, and that only succeeded in pushing her bottom more earnestly into his lap. “Sara,” he breathed, his mouth opening against the tender skin behind her ear.

“Michael…” She reached for the hand that covered her breast, but his other hand suddenly made an appearance between her legs, sliding betwixt her thighs gently as his thumb made a sweeping discovery. She breathed his name again gaspingly at the unexpected touch.

“Sara,” he growled as his teeth trapped her earlobe in a love bite and his lips sucked the tender nubbin right into his mouth.

“We…” she tried to say, _We can’t_ , but his thumb already was, and she was loathe to stop it for many reasons, most of them selfish. But he had stirred a fire in her that he hadn’t quite put out several minutes before, and Sara was not so different from him in her desire. She wanted the release his touch would give her, but she also knew something he didn’t. It was this thought that flitted through her head, very much like an annoying mosquito, that she tried to grasp but lost entirely as his thumb moved in and out a few times. Then his hand curved around her, covering her completely before moving again in a caress that made her mewl desperately as one long finger slid inside her and she nearly screamed his name as the feelings she had for him culminated finally into an explosion of sensation through her abdomen and thighs.

She lost sense of time; he pulled his hand away, turning her so she was on her back, and then looming over her, he placed one hand flat against the mattress to hold him above her as the other one attempted to spread her legs to make room for himself. “Michael,” she said urgently, her hands coming up simultaneously to grasp at his biceps. “That was the only condom, the one we already used. I don’t have another.” The words fell unceremoniously from her lips but as jarring as they were to say, it was a good thing because she could see the passionate fog he was in would not have been cleared by a thought at all, though the words floating in the atmosphere gave him pause. He was ready, and poised right against her, she could feel the hard, damp heat of him, or maybe, she reasoned, it was all the heat he’d created inside her.

His gaze locked on her face and he took a deep breath. She saw him slowly trying to cool the desire running through his veins. Slumping slightly, his eyes closed and he dropped his forehead down until it rested against hers. “Shit,” he muttered.

Well, yeah.

“I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry,” she whispered, running her fingers along his upper arms, touching the tattoo on his skin with wonder. Strangely the ink didn’t take anything away from its softness and purity. She wanted to bury her nose against his epidermis and breathe all the life from it she could. “I don’t know why I thought once would be enough,” she said softly.

“Why did you have a condom in your purse anyway?” he asked, still holding himself poised over her.

“I bought it from the vending machine when we stopped at that gas station.”

He lifted his head slowly, and a little smile touched his mouth. “I appreciate the try at seduction, but obviously you don’t do this often, or you would have realized several would have been necessary.”

“I wasn’t even sure I would be brave enough to use that one,” she confessed, her fingers running up his shoulders.

“You ought to stop touching me if we’re through for the night,” he murmured, and he started to move away from her.

She tightened her fingers on his shoulders, not exactly preventing him from moving, merely indicating that she didn’t want him to go.

“Sara,” he said, his tone telling her everything. Either he had to move into her, or away from her, there were only the two choices.

“Would it be so terrible?” she asked.

“I think it would be amazing, since I have a little of my stamina back.”

“No,” Sara whispered, knowing how insane the thought was, but somehow having to make him understand that she was thinking it. “Would it be so terrible…to take the chance?” She lifted her hips up just a nudge, her thighs falling apart in invitation.

Michael’s eyes snapped to hers, and they darkened to a whole new blue she had never seen before. At first she thought that was the color of fear, but suddenly she realized she had somehow turned him on even more. “We’re crazy,” he whispered roughly.

He didn’t say, _No, Sara it wouldn’t be terrible_ , or _Yes, Sara it would be terrible_. Instead with two words he let her know that he was as okay with the idea as she was.

And she knew she shouldn’t be. But, unbelievably, she was. Moving her hands so both covered the nape of his neck she widened her legs so he could settle between them. He didn’t move instantly though, and their eyes reconnected. So much passed between them then, and Sara knew this signified hope for both of them, whether anything came of it or not. His mouth covered hers as he pushed fully inside her, unsheathed, unrestrained.

A long time later, Sara fell into a deep sleep, one that allowed her to dream that the choice she had just made would come to fruition. And Michael was with her in the dream as well as sleep, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
